Chapter Six: Darkness and Joy
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Duck. Swing. Duck. Jab to the left. Lean Back. Step Back. Kick. Harry grinned, he was getting good at this. SMACK.
"Oops, sorry Harry. You okay?" Buffy asked. She leaned over the winded young man. Harry nodded and got to his feet.
"Good one," he gasped rubbing his chest as he spoke. Thankfully Buffy was going easy on him. No broken ribs. Harry poised himself in a fighting stance, ready for the next attack.
The pair were sparring in Giles's backyard. It had been four days since their first patrol, but it had only taken that one night for each to gain a good deal of respect for the other. Harry had been throughly impressed by Buffy's fighting skills. Buffy had been impressed by Harry's magic and his protection of Willow. They hadn't discussed this mutual respect, they had just known it was there. However, after that first night, Buffy had been convinced that Harry should learn more hand-to-hand fighting techniques. Especially if he was going to patrol with her.
"What if you lost your wand?" Buffy had argued. Harry had merely nodded, not mentioning his wandless ability. Personally he was happy to learn from someone as accomplished as Buffy. And, magic wasn't everything, as Buffy had so aptly proved during the patrol last night...
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They were in the graveyard again. Harry still wasn't fond of graveyards, but vampires certainly enjoyed them. Harry wondered why that was, it was slightly cliché really. If he was a vampire, and could live for as long as they did, he wouldn't be wasting his life, or afterlife rather, in a moldy tomb. He'd see the nightlife...not as if they could see the daylife. He was rambling, but what else was there to do when you wandered around in the dark. Harry observed Buffy as she walked beside him. She did this every night.
"So, you gonna go all magically?" asked Buffy, her words breaking the silence.
"What?" questioned Harry. Buffy had an interesting way of speaking, but he wasn't certain he understood her all the time.
"You gonna use your magic, or are you gonna try some of those moves I showed you?"
"Oh, I don't know." Harry pondered to himself. Could he take a vampire in a hand-to-hand fight? Sparring these last couple of days had helped his fighting skills, but vampires were strong.
"I think you might manage," commented Buffy.
"Really? Okay I'll give it a try," stated Harry. Buffy smiled and handed him an extra stake.
"I got your back," she smiled as she spoke. "Speaking of which," Buffy's head jerked to the left were three vampires were prowling toward them. Buffy surveyed the trio as they approached.
"I'll take big and mean and blue shirt, you take Mr-I-still-think-its-the-eighties," directed Buffy. Harry nodded. Buffy rushed forward first and drew her two vampires away from the third. Harry approached the remaining vampire a little more cautiously. He'd never fought a vampire without magic before, the coolness of his wand holster strapped to his arm was comforting.
"Look what I've got," cooed the vampire. Harry raised his eyebrows.
This vampire was dust.
Harry kicked forward, his movement sudden. But the vampires had amazing agility and his opponent moved out the way. Harry had expected the vampire's direction, and responded with a punch to the face. Harry's blow connected. With his other hand, Harry aimed the stake at the vampire's heart, but the creature swerved and nearly avoided being stabbed. Harry moved in for another attempt, when the vampire grabbed Harry's arm. The vampire smirked happily, and threw Harry through the air. Harry groaned as he found himself flying directly toward Buffy's fight.
Harry landed awkwardly, his arm tucked under him. It wasn't broken, but it was certainly going to be stiff tomorrow. Still, he rapidly got to his feet. He found himself only a foot away from one of Buffy's vampires. The vampire in blue, however, had his attention focused on Buffy. Thinking quickly, Harry lunged at the vampire and staked him in the back. The creature broke into dust.
"Harry!" Buffy called, "He was mine," she pouted.
"Sorry, opportunity and all," replied Harry. Buffy ducked a blow from the other vampire she was fighting and gave him a firm kick in the chest knocking him away. She sent Harry a glare, to which Harry smiled, his expression clearly unapologetic.
"Fine," she glared. She raised a stake in her hand and moved her arm in his direction. Harry's eyes widened. With a flick of her wrist Buffy let the stake fly. Harry cringed.
PmuF. Harry turned quickly, the stake had flown over his shoulder and struck the vampire he had been fighting, who had snuck up behind him. Harry turned sheepishly back to Buffy.
"Oops," said Harry. Buffy giggled. The final vampire, whom Buffy had dubbed 'big and mean' made a wild attempt at Buffy. Buffy countered but was knocked off her feet. Buffy reached into her pocket, but he hand came up empty. Buffy lifted her eyes to Harry and a silent communication passed between them. Harry nodded.
"Catch," he called. Harry tossed the stake in his hand to the slayer. She snatched it out of the air, and just as quickly, the wood was lodged in the vampire's chest. The vampire was toast. Buffy dusted herself off and approached Harry.
"So, what did we learn?" asked Buffy, a snotty tone to her voice.
"Magic's a lot easier?" answered Harry.
"True, but not the answer I'm looking for," replied Buffy.
"Uh..." Harry shot a confused look at the slayer. Buffy glared at him.
"Oh! Don't dust Buffy's vamps before you dust your own?" answered Harry, hoping his answer was right.
"Good boy," smirked Buffy. She patted him on the head and tried to look condescending, which was difficult as he was five inches taller than her. But, Harry just rolled his eyes and laughed.
"I need more weapons," speculated Buffy. "Let's go by my house and I'll get a sword. I got this new one I've been itching to try."
"A sword?" Harry grinned remember the Gryffindor sword in his trunk. Buffy misinterpreted his thoughtful look, she clucked her tongue.
"Not until you're a big boy, Harry," she fake scolded. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt." Harry growled at her, putting an equally fake scowl on his face.
"I'll have you know I killed a Basilisk with a sword when I was twelve," boasted Harry.
"Yeah right...what's a Basilisk?"
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Harry smiled as he remembered last night's patrol. Okay, so he hadn't been great. But at least he hadn't used his magic. He could do this all on his own, no powers.
Lost in thought, Harry almost didn't see the blow Buffy aimed at his gut, he manged to move out of the way in time. Alright...he needed more work. Back to sparring.
Buffy smiled as Harry barely managed to avoid her hit. She was really enjoying herself. This kind of training was fun. She still trained with Giles, of course, but it was different sparring with Harry. Giles was quite a bit taller than her, and he used that to his advantage. But, his style was also more tactical, slower. Harry wasn't much taller than her, thus he used a different technique. He relied on speed, as well as a good dose of improvisation While Giles's style had become predictable over the years, Harry was proving to be a surprising challenge. Buffy leaned back in surprise when Harry launched a sudden punch at her face. She smiled. Harry didn't hold back either. Yep, sparring with Harry was fun.
Although Harry appreciated improving his skills, there was another reason that he looked forward to training with Buffy. It was a reason he didn't want to admit...but it was there. Their sparring, well, it provided an escape from his Unc--Giles. It had been four days since Harry had gone on his first patrol with Buffy. And very little had changed between that first day and today. Giles still spent all day leafing through books. The only way Harry was able to have a conversation was if it involved the bloody books. Harry might have left long ago if it weren't for the new friends he was making in Sunnydale. He knew he couldn't stay here forever, but he also didn't want to leave. For once he felt like an ordinary wizard. It was a great feeling. Harry wasn't ready to head back to England, he wasn't ready to be a famous freak again.
Buffy swung another punch aimed at Harry's stomach, which Harry swerved. He was really good a ducking Buffy noted. Harry kicked out suddenly, landing a glancing blow to Buffy's calf. He smiled cheekily. 'So you want to play' Buffy thought. This time rather than going in for a punch, Buffy grabbed at his shirt. With the other hand, Buffy took a hold of his shoulder. Harry leaned back trying to tear away. Buffy held tighter, with a burst of strength she lifted Harry and flung him over her shoulder. Over her shoulder... and across the yard. Buffy cringed as she watched the teen land. Luckily, the kid rolled as he hit, tucking his neck as he flipped over.
"Sshh, super strength must be useful. Bet you never have any trouble doing your chores." commented Harry. He shakily got to his feet.
"Oops," giggled Buffy. Than, her eyes became a tad more serious as she noted a large tear in his t-shit. "I'm sorry, I ripped your shirt." Harry looked down at the coth. He shrugged.
"No problem."
"No really, I'll have to buy you another."
"Hey, it's not a big deal look." Harry flicked his wrist, his wand emerged. With a simple twist of his wand, the shirt was repaired. Buffy eyed the repair job, you couldn't even tell it had been torn.
"Where were you last week? " Buffy asked. "This vamp tore a really nice leather jacket. I could have used you than wizard boy." Buffy paused again. This time she took in Harry's entire outfit. "Not like it matters. Those clothes are tacky."
"Hey," Harry complained. "These aren't so bad."
"Okay, I'll give you that. I've seen you in worse."
"What is it with you and fashion," questioned Harry. He rolled his eyes and decided to sit on the ground, rolling his neck to work the stiffness out.
"I'm a girl, idiot." Buffy stated.
"Not all girls--" argued Harry, before he was cut off by Buffy
"And those clothes...Why don't you just magic yourself some better one." Harry flushed slightly.
"I've...well I've tried to transfigure clothes. You wouldn't think it would be that hard...but what I make turns out worse than this." Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Why not buy some than, you got oodles of cash."
"Oodles? I don't think that's a word," pointed out Harry.
"It is, look it up. But any way we are discussing your fashion sense, not my grammar."
"Yeah because that conversation would be too long." Buffy plopped down next to Harry.
"You are avoiding this conservation, no more avoid-o boy."
"Why does it matter?" Harry asked. He was honestly curious. Buffy turned to face him. Her eyes looked heavenward.
"It doesn't matter I guess. If you want to be grunge boy."
"Avoid-o boy and grunge boy, quite the nicknames I have." Both Buffy and Harry were silent for a moment. Harry toyed with the edge of his overlarge shirt. "I guess I never really saw the point." Harry said softly. "And, I've done a little shopping...mostly for school supplies, and I bought that outfit here...but I always feel like a bloody wanker in a shop."
"Wankers aren't good right?" asked Buffy.
"Idiot," replied Harry. Buffy shot Harry a glare and smacked his shoulder.
"Just because I don't know British slang doesn't--"
"No, that's what wanker means. It's like idiot. By the way, ouch that hurt." Harry rubbed his shoulder.
"Sorry. So...why do you feel like a wanker in a shop?" Harry couldn't help but smile when Buffy attempted to sound English but, he wisely turned away so she couldn't see his amusement. His shoulder hurt enough.
"I never went shopping as a kid. At least not for me. I just got Dudley's hand-me-downs. I guess I just never got the hang of it." Harry shrugged and lay back in the grass. He let his eyes close slightly.
"Dudley's your cousin right." Harry nodded. "He has to have the worst name. Did his parent's hate him or something?" Harry stayed silent. Buffy looked down at him. Harry didn't mention his home much. She got the feeling his relatives weren't nice people, but she didn't bring it up.
"You know most guys don't know what to wear. I mean, I love Xander to death, but the boy has some bad taste in clothes."
"As bad as mine?" asked Harry, his voice light in a joking manner.
"Nope, he's got more style than you." Buffy leaned back in the grass too. The sun felt nice shining down, warming her face. "I could help you if you liked," offered Buffy offhandedly.
"Really?" Harry sat up. He looked down at Buffy. "You'd do that?" he asked.
"Sure, I'm a fashion guru," responded Buffy, she jumped to her feet. "Let's go."
"What now?" Harry asked.
"No time like the present. We just got to get a ride to the mall. I wonder if Giles would drive us. He's not doing anything."
"He's researching," replied Harry. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"That is all he's done these last couple days. He isn't usually so buried in the books." Buffy shot a curious look at a window in Giles's flat. She hoped he wasn't keeping something terrible from her. Harry followed her gaze to the same window, a frown evident on his face. He'd tried to not the take his Uncle's actions personally, he'd contented himself thinking that Giles had an important job and was dedicated. But, it was becoming obvious that this wasn't Giles's normal behavior. He sighed, he really didn't get his uncle. The man had practically demanded he stay, and yet now took every opportunity to avoid Harry.
"I have another idea," Harry smiled and lifted an eyebrow. Buffy shot a questioning glance and him and than her eyes widened.
"Magic?" she asked. Harry grinned. Buffy let a small smile grace her lips. It was filled with excitement and even a little joy. Real true smiles were rare for Buffy Summers. Oh sure, she laughed with her friends...but nightly battles had taken their toll. Very little filled her with a sense of childlike wonder. But this...it was magic!
"Here," Harry said, he held out his hand. Buffy took hold without question. A strange tickling sensation slid over her skin. She shivered a bit and looked down at her hand to see what had caused the strange sensation. Her hand was gone. She was invisible.
"This is cool!" gushed a surprised Buffy.
"Hold on tight," advised Harry. Buffy did as instructed, her vision grew fuzzy. Her body felt as if it was being squished through a tight space. Buffy blinked and suddenly she was standing in the parking lot of the Sunnydale Mall. Harry looked around cautiously before dropping the invisibility.
"That was...that was just neat. Must really cut down on the gas costs," commented Buffy jokingly.
"Yeah, so where to?" questioned Harry. He looked at the large shopping structure dauntingly. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Come on magic boy, I'll show you how it's done." Buffy grabbed one of Harry's arms and began leading him toward the entrance. Harry's eyes widened, a sense of worry coursing through him. Buffy's eyes were filled with a fire and intensity he usually only saw during battle.
"What have I gotten myself into?"
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"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" Harry collapsed onto a large overstuffed couch in Buffy's house. He hung limply. Buffy plopped into a chair, her posture as slouched as his was.
"I know," stated Buffy.
"I never knew there were so many places to buy clothes. Why would there be that many shops in one place...it's insane. Total madness." Harry ruffled his hair as he tried to absorb what had happened during the last few hours. His feet hurt. His eyes were slightly dazed from all the bright, unnatural florescent light. He smelt vaguely of various perfumes and colognes that had been squirted upon him. It had been an experience, that was certain, but not one he planned on repeating. And some of the people there...they were mad. Buffy had said it was 'back to school' shopping, but Harry had never seen someone breakdown in Diagon Alley because they couldn't get a particular pair of clogs. Still Buffy had seemed unfazed by the adventure, so he could only assume it was normal. Thankfully he'd never have to go back there anytime soon. Buffy had persuaded him to buy enough clothes to last for the next fifty years.
"I still think you should have bought that leather coat," commented Buffy as she starred into space.
"You already picked me out one leather jacket, I hardly needed another. And, as if I'd need a coat here. Bloody indecent weather. Sunny all day, all the time."
"You poor baby," teased Buffy. "I'm glad you decided to wear your new stuff home, much with the improvement." Buffy nodded her approval from her seat. Harry smiled a bit as he looked down what he was wearing. He'd never been into clothes. How could he have been? But he did like how he looked. Dark jeans, and layered shirts. The neck of green shirt peeking out from under the plain black one. He'd never thought of doing that. Buffy was actually a good shopper. Not that he'd expected any different. He had worried she'd force him into some of the bright button-down shirts he'd seen some men wearing. Harry had cringed when he'd spotted bright pink shirts. But Buffy had been surprisingly helpful, never pushing him to wear something he didn't like.
The pair were both lounging sluggishly when a voice interrupted their thoughts.
"Buffy, I'm home," called the kind voice. Harry self-consciously sat up straighter, but Buffy didn't move.
"I'm in here Mom," the blonde responded. An attractive older woman entered the room. She shook her head at her prone daughter, then looked in interest at Harry.
"Are you going to introduce me to your friend Buffy?" she asked pleasantly. Buffy straightened up and said,
"Mom, Harry, Harry Mom."
"Nice to meet you ma'am," replied Harry politely. Buffy's mother raised an eyebrow at Harry's response.
"I see you've found some polite friends," she commented.
"Willow's polite," argued Buffy, "And Xander's...polite in his way."
"Are you going to stay for supper," Mrs. Summers asked, ignoring her daughter.
"I wouldn't want to impose," said Harry.
"You're more than welcome. I'm glad to see Buffy making some new friends." Buffy's mother nodded her head approvingly. Buffy shot a glare at her mother.
"I have friends," stated an offended Buffy.
"I know dear, but you've been isolated in your little circle. It's good to see you branching out. Now Harry, you must stay for diner, unless you're needed back at home."
"Well...if you're sure," replied Harry. Mrs. Summers nodded agreeably. In actuality, Harry was very glad to be invited. Dinner at the Summer's house was bound to be better than eating with his Uncle. Harry cooked, and Giles ate while reading. It wasn't really an exciting evening.
"Buffy, shoes off the chair," chided her mother. Buffy rolled her eyes but complied. Harry found himself smiling amid the little domestic tranquillity that seemed to flood the room when Mrs. Summers entered. She had a similar motherly nature to that of Mrs. Weasley, a nature that could both embarrass you and make you feel loved in the same moment. Harry watched her bustle about putting things away. She absently ran a hand through Buffy's hair as she straightened a pillow. Buffy flipped on the television.
"Do you like Friends?" Buffy asked as she flipped through the channels.
"Don't really know. Never watched it," replied Harry.
"Oh, then you've got to see it," Buffy flipped to one of the channels. A group of twenty somethings were chatting a coffee shop. Buffy laughed at one of the comments.
"You're patrolling with me tonight right?" Buffy questioned. Harry nodded as he watched the screen. "Good, if you keep getting better, you can borrow one of my broadswords." Buffy's eyes remained focused on the television. Harry remembered how just the other night Buffy had beheaded one troublesome vamp with one swipe of her sword. Harry smiled, maybe he should show her Gryffindor's sword after all.
"Ha! That Joey..." Buffy laughed at the screen. Harry smiled.
Life in Sunnydale was surreal. Darkness and joy stacked right on top of each other. Sometimes it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Harry had been fighting Voldemort since he was eleven, but it had always seemed so serious. Harry watched as Buffy laughed at another joke. His smile widened. Here...well here he could fight darkness and still be happy, still be normal.
It was with a shock, that Harry realized he was content. Not happy, maybe Harry had been through too much to ever be truly happy. But he was content, for the first time in a long time.
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Buffy watched Harry as he ate dinner with her and her mother. He seemed relaxed, but also anxious to please at the same time. Ever the gentleman, that was Harry. Sometimes she wondered how much of his polite behavior was himself, and how much was done with some motive in mind. She didn't think he was manipulative. Harry didn't have a domineering bone in his body. But sometimes he seemed so worried about keeping people happy. It worried Buffy, but only in an offhanded way. Maybe she was over analyzing...whew big word that one. Giles would be proud of her big wordage.
Speaking of Giles, what was his deal? She'd never seen the man more distant. It almost seemed as if Giles's didn't like his nephew, but who couldn't like Harry? And, it wasn't as if the kid was a bother. Whenever she went over in the evening, Harry had usually cooked dinner and was often helping Giles research. And Harry hated research, even she could see that. So what was Giles's prob? What else could the kid do to please him? She was getting dangerously close to smacking her watcher...but she forcibly tried to leave the situation alone. It was a family matter. She didn't have any right to mess with Giles's personal life, right?
"So, Harry are you a friend from Buffy's school? Or are you visiting?" Mrs. Summers enquired.
"Well, Mrs- I mean Joyce, I'm visiting my Uncle," replied Harry. Joyce smiled at Harry's way of addressing her. He had seemed very uncomfortable at the thought of calling her by her given name, until she had mentioned that being called Mrs. Summers made her feel old. So Harry had complied.
"Oh, do I know him?" Joyce asked.
"It's Giles Mom," informed Buffy. Joyce paused for a moment and took a careful bite of food. She swallowed.
"Are...are you in the same business as...your Uncle?"Mrs. Summers stuttered out.
"Gosh, Mom, excellent code words."
"No, I'm not a watcher," answered Harry.
"Oh, well that's good...so, you know about Buffy's..."
"He knows I'm the slayer. He's been helping me patrol," replied Buffy. Joyce turned to examine the boy sitting at her table. He wasn't particularly tall, nor was he bulging with muscles. He had a more lean, athletic look about him. Messy black hair, glasses, and the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen. He was a nice looking boy. But, she worried about him on patrol, just as she worried about Willow and Xander. It was nice that he was helping her Buffy, but she'd have preferred a Herculean muscleman to assist her daughter. Not another teenager.
"Well I do hope you are careful Harry." Buffy took a bite of her food and ground her teeth. She had noticed her mother's not to subtle scrutiny of Harry.
"He's really good too," commented Buffy. She shot a look at her mother. Harry blushed and mumbled something like 'I don't know about that,' however, it wasn't very clear, not much more than a whisper.
"I'm sure he is," Joyce agreed pleasantly.
'No really Mom, he is. Harry's a wizard." Joyce paused for a moment. She took a bite of food and chewed carefully.
"A wizard?" Her voice was slightly skeptical.
"He can do magic," explained Buffy, "Go on Harry show her. It's really neat Mom." Harry raised his eyebrows at Buffy. What did she want him to do? His lips quirked as he remembered a magic show he had seen Dudley watching. Harry sent a smirk in Buffy's direction as he stuck a hand up his sleeve, in the blink of an eye, he whipped his hand back out and it was filled with a bouquet of pink roses. With a flourish, he handed it to Mrs. Summers.
"My, that was nice," Joyce said. She touched the roses cautiously, as if expecting them to explode. "They're real," she said surprise echoing in her voice.
"That was crappy Harry," commented Buffy. Her mother shot her a severe look.
"Well what did you want me to do, conjure a wave of fire?"
"Not in the house," stated a firm Joyce.
"Do something bigger," pleaded Buffy. She was still a little entranced by Harry's magic. That travel to the mall today. She'd seen Giles's and Willow's magic before. But Harry's was really magic.
"Fine," Harry shrugged. He tried to think of another piece of magic that might impress Buffy and her mother. Getting an idea from another movie, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated.
"Wingardium Leviosa" Harry muttered.
"Woah!" Buffy called out. Both Buffy and Joyce gripped the edges of their chairs. The dining room tables and chairs had all decided to float off the floor. Soon Buffy and her mother found themselves eating dinner, their heads only a foot beneath the ceiling.
"How about this, is this magic enough," questioned Harry. Buffy looked wide-eyed down at he floor.
"Yes, this will do," replied Buffy, her voice a little more squeaky than usual. Joyce broke into a bright and cheerful laugh. Buffy and Harry shot the older woman questioning glances before joining her.
"You aren't going to drop us... are you?"
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A few hours later, Harry nodded good-night to Buffy and her mother. Both women had found the evening enjoyable. After an amusing meal on the ceiling, they had made Harry watch a movie which they claimed was 'the best ever made'. It was most obviously a girly movie, or chick flick in the Buffy vernacular, but Harry had laughed at some parts.
"Thanks for having me Mrs. Summer," said Harry as he departed.
"Joyce," urged Buffy's mom.
"Oh yeah, Joyce. Still want to patrol later?" Harry asked Buffy.
"Yeah, I'll swing by on my way out," stated Buffy. Harry nodded, and disappeared from their entryway. Joyce stood wide-eyed for a moment.
"Magic?"
"Yeah, he can pop anywhere in like seconds." Buffy smiled as she remembered traveling by the same method earlier. Joyce placed a warm arm around her daughter's shoulder.
"I certainly meet interesting people having you for a daughter."
"Just on the perks," teased Buffy.
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Just as Buffy said, Harry could travel anywhere in seconds, milliseconds actually. Harry disapparated from the Summer's home and into the entryway of Giles's flat. He had shrunk the shopping bags from earlier and placed them in his pocket. He was looking forward to removing his old clothes from his trunk and putting the new ones in. His smile widened. He had enough clothes to never have to wear a Dudley outfit again. It was a wonderful feeling knowing his new clothes had never been worn by his tremendous cousin. No more Dursley sweat in his clothes. Maybe he'd do this proper and burn the old things.
Harry entered the living room, his thoughts bent on doing just that...when another voice broke through his thoughts.
"Where Have you Been!" demanded his Uncle. Giles stood resolutely before the sofa. He had a stern look on his face, his eyes glaring, his mouth was set in a firm line.
"I-I was at Buffy's" stuttered Harry. His Uncle's sudden anger had taken him by surprise.
"You don't Call?" asked his uncle, his words still filled with some sort of cold rage.
"I- why would I?" asked Harry. He was actually confused. He knew he should probably be feeling angry at his Uncle's demanding nature...but honestly he was in shock about this reaction. Why? Why was his uncle angry? It didn't make any sense.
"It's polite to tell your host where you are," replied Giles. Some of the anger had left his voice, but it was still cold and annoyed.
"Um, okay..." said Harry. His words trailed off, confusion still evident in his face. Harry watched as his Uncle went back to a chair that was surrounded by books and sat down. Giles pulled another book to his face and began to read. Harry stared at his Uncle for a moment. He shook his head, as if the action could make what had happened any more clear. But it didn't.
Deciding to ignore the outburst, Harry proceeded to empty his pockets of the magically shrunk shopping bags, but the joy wasn't in it anymore. He merely dumped his clothes into his trunk, piled his old Dursley clothes into the empty shopping bags. The only noise was the crinkle of the bags and the turning of pages. When Harry rose to his feet, he stretched his spine. He shot his Uncle a curious look, but the man seemed to have ignored Harry's action and was once again staring at his book. Harry wondered if his Uncle was even reading.
In an attempt to escape the tension of the room, Harry went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the tap. He put the glass to his lips and sipped slowly. From the kitchen, Harry was allowed an unobstructed view of the back of his Uncle's head. Giles had remained rather still, the books almost looked as if they were framing him. Harry stared at his Uncle trying to understand the man.
What did he even know about his Uncle? He was a watcher, he was his mother's half brother, he researched a lot...but even that wasn't right. Buffy had told him that this attitude was unusual. Harry took another sip of water. His Uncle's hand reached over and lifted something off the nearby table, it was an energy bar. Harry drank the last bit of his water while his Uncle unwrapped the tasteless looking food. Harry remembered energy bars. He'd eaten them towards the end of the war. They tasted like crap, but they kept you going and they were portable. They had actually been Hermione's idea. She had grown too tired of Harry 'wasting away' while he worked, not taking time for eating.
Why was his Uncle eating that? As Harry placed his glass by the sink, the answer came to him. The kitchen hadn't been used. No dishes were in the sink, no smell of food in the air. His Uncle hadn't eaten dinner. Maybe...maybe Giles had expected Harry to make dinner? Harry had the last couple nights, although largely because he'd rather be cooking than researching with Giles's books. But, it wasn't as if they had an arrangement. It wasn't his chore. Giles didn't think of him like the Dursleys did, he wouldn't be expecting Harry to do all the household work...would he? Was that why Giles was angry about him not coming home?
No that couldn't be it. He'd have mentioned it. Wouldn't he?
Harry stood still in the kitchen. He didn't like the way his thoughts were going. Giles didn't think about him that way. Harry wondered if Giles thought about him at all. But this whole situation, it was feeling familiar. Harry had come to Sunnydale to meet his Uncle, hoping that he had a relative in the world who wasn't as self-obsessed as the Dusleys. But was he kidding himself expecting Giles to be different? Harry closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. This entire situation was getting old. He had to be more than a bit dim to keep expecting things to change. A right idiot.
Harry walked out into the living room, but at the sight of his Uncle, he just could remain. Harry crossed the room and walked outside. He took a seat on the porch and stared out into the night. Emotions were bubbling inside him. Hurt, confusion, anger...although whether he was angry at his Uncle or himself he didn't know. It was all such a mess.
"Darkness and Joy stacked on top of each other," muttered Harry. Hadn't those been his thoughts earlier? He'd been more right than he knew. He hated the emotional turmoil meeting his Uncle had brought. Yet, he liked so many other things here. Sparing with Buffy. Chatting with the cheerful Willow. Hearing Mrs. Sum-Joyce laugh and tease Buffy. But it was all so jumbled up.
Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He closed his eyes to the darkness, fighting another inner battle instead. Harry would sit on the stoop for some time, trying to achieve an inner peace...which might perhaps never come. And, all the while the magic within him bubbled and hissed.
A/N: Happiness with a side of inner turmoil.
No one has guessed the villain yet...so here are few extra hints.
1) He is a wizard from the Harry universe
2) Although our villain's associate, the vampire Carsten, might be German...I never said our villian was. Wink. Nod.
Hope you enjoyed,
Della